(T/N: If you don't like cooking, you can always skip 5 paragraphs, then check if it's about food again, and skip another 5 paragraphs. I myself don't like information about food, and if it were just a few sentences in one chapter, I would gladly delete them, but in this fanfic there are many sections entirely devoted to this topic)
In the kitchen, Renya's gaze swept over the ingredients Senju Tobirama had bought back last night.
Since it had been so long since Hashirama-san last tasted his cooking, he decided to make a few dishes he liked.
He first took out the salmon. With a diagonal slice of the blade, the fillet came free, and the fish skin sizzled loudly as it hit the hot pan. Oil seeped out, and the aroma instantly filled the kitchen.
A sprinkle of sea salt and black pepper, and the fish skin crisped up to a perfect golden brown, while the flesh remained tender and juicy.
Renya skillfully flipped the fillet. The fragrance of salmon, mixed with a faint hint of lemon, wafted toward the living room.
Next came the premium beef.
He took out a beautifully marbled piece, lightly scored the surface, and let the marinade seep deep into the fibers.
The pan was heated until it faintly smoked. The moment the beef hit the pan, a rich explosion of meaty fragrance erupted, and the sizzling fat released an irresistible charred aroma.
With a deft flick of his wrist, Renya flipped the steak. The surface now bore a perfect dark-golden crust, while the inside stayed seductively pink and tender.
...
"Guurrrgle—"
In the living room, Senju Hashirama's stomach betrayed him as the scent reached his nose.
He grinned and turned to Madara.
"Well? What did I tell you? Renya's cooking is something else, right?"
Even before the dishes were served, the rich aromas had already drifted over.
Uchiha Madara sat with his arms crossed, face impassive as always, but his Adam's apple moved almost imperceptibly.
This smell… was actually kind of tempting.
He didn't argue with Hashirama, simply let out a soft "hmph," but his eyes involuntarily flicked toward the kitchen.
After going all day yesterday without eating, the moment he caught the scent, his hunger stirred.
It seemed Hashirama hadn't lied. This brat really did have some skill.
Whether it was as exaggerated as Hashirama claimed, though, was something only a taste would reveal…
Hashirama chuckled silently, already looking forward to seeing Madara's expression when he finally tried the food.
He was certain Madara would like Renya's cooking.
...
Renya, unaware of what was happening outside, focused on preparing the final dish — soup.
The umami aroma immediately rose to meet him.
The soup began to bubble gently, releasing a rich, savory fragrance that mingled with the nutty scent of soy.
Senju Hashirama inhaled deeply and couldn't help but sigh in admiration.
"Renya's cooking is as amazing as ever. I can already smell how good it is before even tasting it."
This time, Madara gave a subtle nod.
Indeed… he did want to try it.
This kid might actually be the real deal.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze settling on the kitchen doorway.
...
Renya wiped the sweat from his forehead, plating the last dish — stir-fried asparagus.
The bright green spears, dotted with slivers of snowy-white garlic, released a refreshing aroma that perfectly balanced out the richness of the meat dishes.
"You two, the food's ready," he said, stepping out of the kitchen with the plates — only to meet Madara's obsidian-black gaze directly.
Madara's eyes swept across the spread on the table, finally stopping at the perfectly seared salmon.
Hashirama could no longer restrain himself.
"Then I won't hold back!" he declared, picking up his chopsticks eagerly.
He had been craving this for a long time.
Madara hesitated for only a moment before also reaching for his chopsticks.
Time to see whether Renya's skills were as exaggerated as Hashirama claimed.
Madara lightly tapped his chopsticks against the salmon. The fish fell apart instantly, silky smooth, revealing delicate pink flesh within.
Expressionless, he placed a piece into his mouth — but the moment the tender fish touched his tongue, his pupils contracted slightly.
…What was this flavor?
The skin was perfectly crisp, while the inside melted effortlessly. The saltiness of sea salt and the mild spice of black pepper danced together, before being lifted and brightened by a hint of lemon.
It was… unbelievably perfect.
Madara's chopsticks paused for just a heartbeat, then moved toward the next piece.
Hmm. Better try one more bite.
...
Hashirama was halfway through his rice when he looked up and realized half the salmon was already gone — and Madara's chopsticks were now making a beeline for the last piece from the belly, the tastiest cut of all.
"Madara, leave some for me!" Hashirama protested, lunging forward with his chopsticks to block him.
Madara froze mid-motion, then shot him a cold glance.
"Eat faster, then."
Hashirama: "…"
He had wanted to savor the flavors slowly, but before he knew it, Madara had nearly devoured all the salmon.
Renya watched the scene, his lips twitching slightly.
These two… were supposed to be the legendary Shura of the Shinobi World and the God of Shinobi?
Why did they look like starving ghosts fighting over scraps…
Despite Madara's calm demeanor, his chopsticks never stopped moving.
In the blink of an eye, half the beef was gone too.
Hashirama finally caught on and joined the battle. Chopsticks clashed rapidly, leaving faint afterimages on the table.
Renya froze mid-reach, his own chopsticks hovering in the air, not daring to move.
Forget it. He'd let them eat first.
"Madara! I called dibs on that piece!" Hashirama yelled as Madara snatched the biggest slice of beef.
"First come, first served," Madara said coolly, giving a disdainful snort. "Only the weak need excuses."
"You—! Did you just use chakra just now?!" Hashirama suddenly realized why Madara's movements were so fast.
Madara chewed silently, refusing to comment.
"Unbelievable! You're cheating!" Hashirama growled, grabbing a much smaller piece in frustration.
Renya watched the two of them nearly come to blows over food, then quietly stood and went back into the kitchen.
He returned with a spare plate of grilled salmon.
This portion had originally been reserved for Senju Tobirama's lunch, but… he could always buy more ingredients later.
Madara's gaze immediately locked on the new plate, his face still composed, though his chopsticks were already stealthily reaching forward.
Renya wisely set the plate right in front of him before Madara's chopsticks got there first.
Madara's expression softened slightly, a glimmer of approval flickering in his eyes.
Not bad. As expected of one of his clan.
...
The last piece of beef disappeared into Madara's mouth.
The meat was incredibly tender, the rendered fat melting instantly, the pepper's spice blending perfectly with the sweetness of the special sauce.
Setting his chopsticks down slowly, Madara fell silent for a moment before finally speaking.
"…The flavor is good."
Hashirama, in the middle of sipping his miso soup, nearly choked.
"Madara, did you just… praise Renya?"
He had expected Madara to enjoy the food, but he hadn't thought he'd actually say it aloud.
Madara, so prideful and aloof, almost never praised anyone.
Unless… they'd truly earned his approval.
Madara shot Hashirama a cold glare, but when his eyes turned toward Renya, the sharpness softened slightly, replaced by a faint, rare acknowledgment.
Hashirama hadn't lied.
This brat's cooking was… genuinely exceptional.
"I really like the food you make."
It was the first time in years he had eaten something this delicious.
Renya blinked, slightly flustered, then bowed his head.
"Uh… thank you, Madara-sama…"
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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